


don't know where to begin

by freezerjerky



Series: love of my life (you caught us off guard) [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Children, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: When Newt joins him in the office five minutes later, he’s changed out of the sweater and into a very old MIT t-shirt with holes along the collar. It’s not that Newt looks less attractive to Hermann dressed like this, but it paints a completely different picture for Hermann. The specific image it gives is of a man who doesn’t think about dressing well for the benefit of his partner anymore. Which is fine, honestly, but who could he be trying to look so well put together for, then?in which Hermann has some insecurities about his relationship





	don't know where to begin

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again! It's best to have read the first two stories in this series!
> 
> This one does contain some sexual content. This fic is definitely more focused on the pairing and the impact of parenting on a relationship, but there's still plenty of cute Frankie around!

The apartment is quiet when Hermann comes home. It’s just after lunch time and even though the weather is still a bit cold, it’s highly likely Newt and Frankie have gone to the park for some playtime. Both of them, as bundles of energy, need to be in expansive spaces fairly regularly. Otherwise, things like expensive lamps get broken. He debates calling Newt to ask to join him, but thinks the better of it. Frankie’s naptime is very soon, so he can’t imagine they’ll be gone for much longer.

Instead, he settles in the office, choosing to read through his emails for the afternoon. One of the biggest benefits of working in academia is that if there’s no reason to be on campus, he doesn’t have to be present. He can be comfortable and warm in his own home with his family. A smile tugs at his lips, nonetheless, when he’s barely settled down and he hears the front door open.

“Don’t run,” Newt exclaims. “You’ve got mud on your shoes and Dad will be angry if you get that on the carpet.”

Hermann rises slowly, stretching his back as he does. The New England cold does not particularly agree with him, but he’s too content to worry about moving anytime soon. Before he’s even in her view, Frankie is rushing to him, throwing herself at his legs.

“Dad’s home!” she shouts, turning her head back in the direction of the living room. “I heard his stick.”

Ah, then that explains it. “It’s a cane,” Hermann supplies. “You need to get out of your coat and then you can tell me all about your day.”

Newt turns the corner into the office then and he’s smiling brightly. Hermann feels something tight in his chest at the sight. His hair, while messy, looks like he’s actually combed it and he’s actually bothered to put on jeans. (Very form fitting jeans, as well.) There’s a brightness to his cheek from being out in the cold and he looks far too charming.

“Come home early?” Newt asks before he leans in for a kiss and Hermann probably returns it with a bit too much heat for an afternoon in front of a small child.

“I only have to answer some emails, so I don’t see any reason why I couldn’t start my Spring Break a day early.”

“Excellent.” Newt leans down to unzipper Frankie’s coat, then holds it out to Hermann as he slips out of his own. He’s wearing a light knit sweater of all things, one that actually fits him properly. Hermann’s not sure of the last time he’s seen him in anything besides a sweatshirt or a t-shirt on an average day. There’s a tightness in Hermann’s throat that he does not enjoy.

“I should work on my emails,” Hermann states and hands Frankie’s coat back to Newt. “So I can spend some time with Frankie after her nap.”

Frankie makes a furious little face at the reminder of nap time, but she does not protest outwardly. Instead she more or less stomps to her room to show how displeased she is with the concept.

“She’ll be sleeping in no time,” Newt says, following diligently after her.

 

When Newt joins him in the office five minutes later, he’s changed out of the sweater and into a very old MIT t-shirt with holes along the collar. It’s not that Newt looks less attractive to Hermann dressed like this, but it paints a completely different picture for Hermann. The specific image it gives is of a man who doesn’t think about dressing well for the benefit of his partner anymore. Which is fine, honestly, but who could he be trying to look so well put together for, then? 

“She’s very excited to have you home for a full week,” Newt explains, settling down in his own desk chair, across the oversized table from Hermann. The table serves as desk for both of them, when they have time to work at home.

“I’m very excited to be home for a week. I feel as though I haven’t seen either of you properly in ages.” Would it be selfish of him to ask Newt to make good on a probably forgotten promise of a real date during this week?

“I thought maybe we could take her to the aquarium. Have a family outing.”

“I don’t see why not. I have no ambitions for the week besides spending time with you and doing work for my courses,” he explains.

“Far less important than spending time with me,” Newt says, grinning.

“My students are inclined to disagree.” Hermann turns his attention back to his emails.

“I wonder if they still have that site where you rate professors,” Newt muses. “You used to be able to give them a pepper if you thought they were sexy. I had a few peppers back in the day.”

“I’m sure you did, Newton.”

Newt smirks at him across the table. “I’m just saying that I’m sure if they still have it, you have a whole bunch of peppers.”

“I don’t think that’s remotely the impression I give students. They were surprised to discover that I have a child so young.”

“Well, I think they’re horrifically wrong.”

Hermann again resumes focusing on his work. Or attempting to. Maybe Newt’s not putting much effort into his appearance around him because Hermann’s dressing the same as he always has. Or maybe Newt’s just profoundly less shallow as a partner. That’s not true, though. Newt’s compliments very often are based in the physical and early in their relationship he made it no secret that he had been physically attracted to Hermann since the very beginning. Despite his emphasis on the intellectual and emotional, it’s still flattering to him to have found a partner who finds him aesthetically appealing.

After an hour of work, Hermann shuts down his computer and stands.

“I’ll wake Frankie from her nap, I think.” He misses the chance to do this and will relish in it whenever he can. 

“She’s gonna need a change, she almost always does after her nap.”

“I’m perfectly capable of changing a nappy, unless you want to assist with that part.”

Newt comically glares at him and he laughs as he moves into Frankie’s room. She’s already sitting up in bed, looking bored. Upon seeing Hermann, though, she immediately holds her arms up, demanding to be lifted. He obeys and kisses her forehead and she returns the favor with a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Your father says you’ll need a change, is that true?”

She nods and he takes her to the changing table. They’ve begun to attempt potty training, but it hasn’t quite stuck yet. Hermann feels eyes on him as he goes through the now familiar process and he knows Newt’s lingering in the doorway, looking both fond and smug.

When he’s done, he turns and lifts Frankie carefully, depositing her safely on the ground. Normally she’d run to Newt and insist he picks her up then, but instead she stays by his side, taking Hermann’s hand as they walk to the living room. Newt trails after them.

“I hadn’t noticed the horrendous shirt you put her in today until now, Newton,” Hermann observes, once Frankie’s deposited in the living room with her toys.

“I just wanted to make sure other kids at the park knew that her daddy had the coolest tattoos,” Newt explains, all but throwing himself on the couch.

Hermann uses his cane to gently pat Newt’s feet, instructing him to move them, which he does. When Hermann’s settled, though, his feet immediately end up in his lap.

“Tattoos that may scare some of the other children.”

“Still cool, though. Plus, she chose the shirt for herself today. I usually let her pick her own outfits anyway, as long as they’re weather appropriate. Kids have to learn early on that their bodies are their own to do with what they want.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, I do agree.” If he’d been granted more freedom growing up, after all, he’d have been a far happier child. “I trust your judgment as a father.”

“Do you trust my judgment to order a pizza for dinner tonight?”

“Do I have a choice in the matter?”

Newt looks like he’s mulling it over seriously for a few moments before he shakes his head. There’s really no winning with him, but losing seems like such an appealing option.

 

They decide to go to the aquarium on Sunday. Hermann rises early and dresses. He makes a point of putting on clothes that he thinks he looks attractive in- jeans and a dark colored shirt with a cardigan instead of his much loved sweater vests. He even takes the liberty of leaving his top button undone. Newt’s still in bed when he goes to wake Frankie and help her dress for the day, but there’s nothing particularly abnormal about that.

Hermann is oddly excited to see what Newt’s wearing for the day. If he has the skinny jeans again, or some other flattering and oddly sophisticated top. He’s learned that domestic life is very much about these little excitements and this is his amusement for the day. Newt, however, doesn’t join until they’re at breakfast, and he’s wearing an old hoodie and a pair of fitted but faded jeans. Hermann ducks behind the newspaper to hide his look of disappointment. He shouldn’t be disappointed. Newt can dress how he likes and he looks good no matter what he wears.

When Newt kisses the top of his head, he looks up at him, then feels guilty for any level of disappointment. He loves this man.

“You look very good today,” Newt remarks. “Delicious, even.”

Ah, and that charm makes him feel foolish for being remotely disappointed. 

“That’s a new word coming from you,” Hermann says. “I’ll take it as a compliment, though.”

“Delicious,” he repeats before sliding into his seat across from Hermann. Frankie looks at him expectantly, like she wants to be held for breakfast. For once, he does not indulge her. Hermann knows why, because Newt’s probably the most excited of the three for the aquarium. He likely wants to leave in the next half an hour to arrive before any crowds do.

Sure enough, he all but inhales his breakfast and then taps his fingers impatiently on the table as he waits for the others. They’re at the aquarium, staring at the jellyfish, within the hour. Hermann finds himself listening intently as Newt gives the most pared down biology lesson he can manage. Frankie nods along at intervals, pretending to understand with a comical gravity. She started the day between them, holding one of their hands each, but somehow she’s manipulated Newt into carrying her. He does not even consider letting her back onto the ground, because it allows him to move freely through the aquarium.

The energy they both have is something Hermann envies. Even as a child, he was not known for sustained energy. His enthusiasm comes in bursts, moments when he’s excited by ideas or a passion, but he’s not the type to run from room to room for the sake of tapping the glass at deadly sharks or to stick his hand in a tank of starfish (though he does this anyway.) 

Newt seems to sense when he’s tired, as they’re both standing as a very kind worker explains to Frankie the history of horseshoe crabs. Newt’s arms snake around his waist from behind, and he rests his cheek against Hermann’s shoulder.

“We can go home soon,” Newt states. This is obvious, as they’ve exhausted most of the aquarium. “Frankie’ll be getting cranky soon. And you.”

“Aren’t I always cranky?” he retorts, his voice too flat to be anything but teasing.

“Yeah, that’s pretty up there in your personality traits.”

“Hopefully not my only personality trait.”

Frankie turns over to them with a grin, running her hand over a crab shell.

“Someone earlier told me she looks so much like me,” Newt says with a snort. “The only thing we’ve got in common is freckles.”

There’s something, Hermann supposes, flattering in the thought that they look like a family. Biological relationships mean nothing in this regard, he truly does not care about Frankie’s parentage beyond the fondness he felt for her biological father as a friend, but at an oddly primal level he loves that his family looks like it fits.

 

They’re not even home before Frankie’s fast asleep. Hermann leads the way back to the apartment and Newt follows after, holding the sleeping girl. She’s not always the soundest sleeper, so it’s a blessing that they manage to get her to her room without jostling her awake.

“I thought maybe we could have a lie down as well,” Hermann suggests, collecting Newt’s coat once Frankie’s settled.

“I’m not particularly tired this afternoon.” Newt lifts off his hoodie for good measure, revealing a very soft t-shirt.

“I didn’t say anything about resting,” he answers, opening the hall closet to hang up their coats carefully. “You did say I look delicious today, after all.”

“That word was thrown around, wasn’t it?” 

Newt puts his hands on his hips, moving so their bodies are flush together. It’s not exactly the sexy position Newt is clearly hoping for, as his groin doesn’t align with Hermann’s ass. The sentiment is appreciated anyway.

“So what do you say?” Hermann asks, hopeful. It’s been a week, he realizes, since they were last intimate. 

He’s left bereft when Newt steps away. “Tonight, babe.”

There’s no reason to delay, Hermann thinks, but he doesn’t push. Newt has as much right as anyone to not be in the mood, and tonight is as good as a promise. Hermann turns around then and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

That night Frankie has a nightmare before they even get to the bedroom and ends up sprawled between them on the bed.

 

It’s always a surprise that Newt manages to wake up at normal hours on weekdays. In fact, he’s out of bed around the same time as Hermann wakes up. For once, Hermann waits until Newt’s out of bed to even consider leaving. He stays in bed with the blankets only to his waist, hoping to be a somewhat enticing image. Around three am, after she’d hit Hermann in the face, Newt took the initiative to remove Frankie from the room. This would likely mean a slightly late start for her waking.

Newt steps back into the room from the closet. Today, he’s got his skinny jeans on and a very becoming flannel shirt, with only the top two buttons undone. His sleeves are even rolled with a care that Hermann rarely remembers him executing.

“Special plans today?” Hermann asks, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest.

“Hm, no. Just going to the park, spending time with you, the usual.”

“I wasn’t aware we were going to the park,” Hermann states.

“Sure, Frankie and I go every other day or so and it’s not supposed to be too cold today. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Hermann starts his morning stretches, a small ritual focused on his bad leg. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m home with both of you this week.”

“I know you don’t like being in the cold for long.” Newt moves over to the bed, leaning in to kiss him softly. “And I didn’t know if you had any plans for today.”

“I’ve only got plans for the next half hour or so.”

“Oh?” Newt kisses him again for good measure, and sits on the edge of the bed.

“Mhm, should have asked me before going through the effort of putting clothing on.”

His hand finds its way to Newt’s chest, adeptly unbuttoning two more buttons of his flannel. Hermann’s not usually this forward, least of all in the morning hours, but Newt’s looking exceptionally handsome today and it really has been too long. He’s not so overeager, though, that he doesn’t appreciate the gentler pleasures of kissing someone he loves very much.

He lays back as Newt leans over, half on top of him as they kiss, tangling themselves in each other. His hand rests very comfortable on Newt’s lower back and Newt’s finds its way to his temples, brushing away the errant morning cowlicks there. He moans into Newt’s mouth, something too loud and needy for a morning, but he wants it to convey his feelings. How badly Hermann wants in that moment.

When Newt pulls away, he’s blushing deeply, but Hermann knows this is also partly the flush of arousal. There’s nothing Hermann wants more in that moment than to see how far down the flush goes, if he can see it on Newt’s chest despite the tattoos.

“What time is it?” Newt asks curiously.

“It hasn’t been nearly half an hour, Newton.”

“Frankie-”

“Is very likely still fast asleep.” Hermann runs a hand down Newt’s arm. His tone as he speaks is soothing and full of promise. “Just a little bit of time for me this morning. Just for me.”

Newt kisses him again, but it feels like the opportunity has slipped by, like Newt’s preoccupied with something far out of the realm of their bedroom.

 

The park is cold. The wooden bench at the park is uncomfortable. Hermann’s leg aches and he’s beginning to wish he stayed home. Newt’s in a leather jacket and even Frankie insists that she leaves her coat unzipped, but Hermann is bundled tightly with a coat and scarf. The cold will not leave his bones and he knows he’s being unfairly unpleasant. 

There are not many children at the park today, so Newt insists on playing along with Frankie. It’s probably better than having her run after one of the older children and doing something outside of what she should be safely doing, but Newt is not a man without risk. He watches them both with keen interest and a fond eye. They’ve both turned and started their walk back to Hermann when a woman stops Newt.

Hermann’s not sure why, but his immediate instinct is to rise to his feet. This is only confirmed when the woman laughs and squeezes Newt’s arm. She throws her head back in a way that Hermann can only bring himself to interpret as flirtatious. When he approaches, she doesn’t take a step back, so he more or less inserts himself between her and Newt.

“Ah, er,” Newt awkwardly stumbles over his words. “Rebecca, this is my partner, Hermann. Herms, this is Rebecca, her daughter and Frankie had a playdate at the park last week.”

Rebecca, who Hermann is sure is a perfectly wonderful person, looks confused for a moment and then extends her hand. Hermann pointedly does not take it.

“It’s time to go home, Newton,” Hermann’s tone is even and cool. “It’s nearly time for Frankie’s nap.”

Admittedly, they could play for another half hour and make the walk home in time. It’s not fair to Frankie to cut her fun just a bit short, and Hermann feels a pang of guilt for being selfish. It’s not strong enough of a sensation for him to change his mind, however. Frankie will have a normal afternoon in the safety and comfort of her home where there are not (relative) strangers who touch her father with a familiarity they have no right to.

Hermann takes Frankie’s hand and starts to walk in the direction of the park entrance. It doesn’t take Newt long to catch up, but Hermann does hear a quick goodbye to Rebecca. He dimly registers that it would have been the polite thing to do, it’s hardly Rebecca’s fault if she thought Newt was someone it was acceptable to flirt with. It’s understandable to want to flirt with the man with the pleasantly round face wearing the very tight jeans, especially when he’s usually alone and so attentive to his daughter. And if he doesn’t have a ring on his finger? Even better.

He literally stews in these thoughts for the short walk home, and Newt allows him to. At least this means that Newt knows he’s done something wrong. But Hermann’s not sure if it’s a case of it being wrong, or a case of it simply not being _ right _ . Which makes no sense, because those should mean the same thing, but they don’t.

Back at the apartment, Hermann allows himself to sit on the floor and play with Frankie before forcing her to nap. She’s very keen on dolls at the moment, which constitutes of any toy she can pretend is a small sized human. This includes some collectible action figures she “borrowed” from Newt’s side of the office, which he has apparently not had the heart to try to regain. Hermann acts much the same, his voice soft as he speaks to Frankie, hanging on her ever word. If he chooses to be particularly vindictive to one of Newt’s figures, it certainly doesn’t show.

When Frankie’s nap time comes, Newt reaches down a hand to help Hermann off the floor. He refuses, instead bracing himself against the couch to rise to his feet. Newt doesn’t say anything about it and instead leans down to pick up Frankie.

“You know what time it is, little bud,” Newt says. “Do you want a song or a story before naptime?”

Frankie mulls it over for a moment, or appears to be doing so. “Story, please.”

“I can read the story,” Hermann cuts in. “If you don’t mind.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Or with Newt. Or he really needs to be alone with Newt, he’s not sure which. They walk to Frankie’s room together, nonetheless, and Newt settles her into the bed as Hermann selects a book to read. Frankie ends up sitting up expectantly, her hands folded in her lap as she waits. Hermann wonders if this primness is something she’s learning from him and if it’s something he should try to teach her to combat. He settles on the edge of the bed, holding up the book he’s chosen.

Newt drops a kiss to her forehead and hesitates for a moment by Hermann, likely deliberating kissing him as well, before he turns and leaves the room. Even as he begins to read, Hermann can hear Newt all but stomping into the bedroom.

 

He really does want to have this conversation like a civil adult, to try to understand Newt’s decisions over the past several days. It’s all been small things, and they could easily be coincidences, truly. But then he steps into the bedroom in the middle of Newt changing out of his attractive flannel into one of his old hoodies and something in Hermann snaps in a profound way. He clears his throat from the doorway, announcing his presence before he sits on the foot of the bed to carefully remove his brogues.

“You’re mad at me,” Newt says, and the sentence brutally punctuates the air. 

“I am not  _ mad _ at you, Newton. I am confused and upset by you and your actions.” Hermann leans down to carefully align his shoes at the foot of the bed.

“Well, I’m mad at you, if you’re going around assuming I would cheat on you-”

Hermann feels like the air’s been forced out of his lungs. “I never said that.” He wouldn’t dream of thinking that. Newt was prone to rash or impulsive choices, but the man was also loyal to his family beyond reason. “If I had assumed, I would have said as much to your face.”

“Then what is it you’re feeling?” Newt places his hands on his hips, to comic effect. It’s not an apt moment for comedy, though.

“Approximately like my partner has been walking around our apartment in lounge clothes for weeks, but then I discover he’s dressing very nicely to go to the park where young women abound. That’s as good of a place as any to start.”

Newt’s expression softens and he looks down sheepishly at his hoodie. He noticeably rubs at a stain. “I didn’t think you minded the way I dress.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. But you can’t deny that you’ve been dressing nicer for attention.”

“I-” Newt hesitates, chews on his lip. “It’s fun, I guess. When people think I’m a catch because I’m a good parent and I look nice in my clothes. It really doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s almost worse that it doesn’t, don’t you see?” Hermann doesn’t realize until then that his right hand has balled into a fist. “If you want to dress in your ill-fitting lounge clothes, I’ll still love you all the same, but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt me when you choose to look nice pointedly for other people. For strangers. People who you claim don’t matter.”

“Oh,” Newt says, as though this thought has never dawned on him. And maybe it hadn’t. “Babe-”

“Do not use pet names right now, Newton. I am not your ‘babe’ at this moment.”

“I didn’t realize you’d feel like that.”

Hermann finally spreads out his hand, lets the tension in his fist go. “I don’t think you’ve been very in tune with my feelings at all lately, to be honest.”

“Now that’s unfair,” Newt protests, stepping forward.

“Why don’t you want to have sex with me, then?” That’s not the logical next step, Hermann knows, but it’s the words that spill out. “Have I ceased to be desirable to you? Not worth preening for?” His words take on a bitter edge.

“Dude, now I know you’re being- you really think that? Do you think I’m bored with you? With our life?”

“The data is unclear. But I would prefer if you’d tell me rather than leave me to second guess myself.” Hermann juts out his jaw defiantly.

“It’s Frankie,” Newt answers honestly.

“Frankie? Are you afraid I’m not going to allow you to see her if we-”

Newt holds up a hand, cutting off that statement. “No. For the past few weeks, every time we’re about to have sex, I get worried that Frankie’s going to hear us and then it takes me completely out of the mood.”

That does actually hold true, though Hermann hates to admit it. Their few moments of kissing earlier in the day proved to follow that trajectory.

“It was different when she was little,” Newt continues. “I figured even if she did hear something, she probably wouldn’t understand. But she’s growing up so much all the time, she’s become a real little kid and I don’t want to frighten her.”

Hermann had walked in on his parents once as a child. It was a traumatizing moment, just a flash of adult intimacy at a tender age, but the verbal sting of his father yelling at him after was far worse. He was only seeking comfort after a dream turned awry. After a moment, he pushes down the thought. It serves no relevance to the issue at hand.

“So do you want to stop?” Hermann asks, trying to keep his tone level. Even. Not disappointed. 

“No!” Newt answers immediately. “No, definitely not.”

“Then what do you want?” Hermann truly wants to hold on to feeling upset, but that will not be productive. He pats the bed beside him, an invitation to sit.

Newt takes it and sits beside him. Instinctively, he reaches for Hermann’s hand, but that seems too far. Hermann withdraws his hand, folding both of his neatly in his lap.

“I don’t want you to be upset with me anymore, though that’s selfish of me,” Newt begins, “And just shitty because you’re allowed to be upset.”

“Thank you for validating my feelings, Newton,” Hermann deadpans. “I know I’m allowed to be upset.”

“I find it comforting to remember that you’re still an ass,” he answers, and his voice has no edge. Hermann can’t see his face, but he suspects Newt may even be grinning.

“I don’t find that humorous.” Hermann rises to his feet. “I’m attempting to be vulnerable with you instead of...shouting, as I want to do. I have laid my insecurities about your feelings for me at your feet and you step over them with blatant disregard.”

“That’s a little bit dramatic, Herms.” Newt is only digging himself deeper. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’ve been bad at communicating what’s going through my head. I assume because you’ve been in it that you just get everything. And I guess to me it seems weird that you’d doubt my feelings for you when I love you so much I could burst.”

“It hasn’t felt like that. To me lately. And I worry because I’ve been in your head that if I am insecure then there is a very logical reason for that and it’s because I’m feeling your feelings for me.”

“Or,” Newt ventures, “you’re an adult man who’s never been in a serious relationship before and hasn’t had more than an hour or two alone with his partner in months. And his partner is an idiot who is not helping him make the most of those few hours.”

Newt extends his hand, a proverbial olive branch, and Hermann does step forward to take it.

“It’s very odd now. I don’t actually like fighting with you anymore,” Hermann admits. “Not about the things that matter, at least.”

“So you’re admitting you used to like fighting with me?” Newt bites back a grin.

“I’m still upset with you, so I wouldn’t push it.”

Hermann drops his hand then, reluctantly. Rather than drop the contact, Newt rises to his feet, venturing to take Hermann’s face in his hands.

“I love you. I love our relationship. I love our family,” Newt states, pointedly looking into his eyes. “Dude, this is the most awesome life I could have imagined.”

“Better than the kaijus?”

“You keep saying it with the s just to annoy me, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Newt leans up and kisses him softly. He tastes oddly like the sickly sweet of a juice box and Hermann wants to scold him for it, but he also wants to keep kissing him until there’s nothing left to taste. His hands settle on Newt’s hips, a grounding force, as he leans further into the kiss and deepens it. Until the kiss becomes open mouthed and eager and less coordinated. Practice makes perfect, Hermann thinks, but he just wants to keep practicing getting this right for the rest of his life. And there’s something so delicious about all the ways it’s wrong, so long as it finds its way back.

The moment they both pull away, they both share wry and pleased smiles. It feels remarkably in sync in a way Hermann has not felt for a long while. Newt’s hands hover for a few moments, just around Hermann’s face, before he lowers them.

“Tonight,” Newt exhales.

“You cannot promise that.”

“Tonight unless a toddler insists on sleeping in the bed with us.”

Hermann levels a look at him that’s both fond and stern. They bend for more than insistence these days, despite Newt being the one who early on insisted that Frankie not be allowed in the bed. 

“Dude,” Newt says, grinning. “How many Saturday afternoons do I come into her sleeping on my side of the bed while you’re both napping?”

“I see no problem with this, Newton.” Hermann takes a step back, but Newt steps forward.

“I’m just saying, it’s the pot calling the kettle black. In fact, you’re the softy of the two of us.”

“I am no such thing. I’m still not entirely alright with what you did today. What you’ve been doing, just so we’re clear about this.” Because even if he feels wonderful in this moment after they’ve been kissing, he doesn’t want to be that person who lets affection and not actual work hold up his relationship.

“Technically I didn’t do anything beyond get dressed, but point taken.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth dips into a frown, but he doesn’t say anything as he steps away, grabbing his cane from where it rests on the bed. Newt’s allowed to be who he wants, to dress how he wants. Perhaps Hermann is wrong to continue to be so upset about this. Perhaps he’s a bit too naturally prone to jealousy. Perhaps Newt can be wrong and Hermann can be acting disproportionately jealous.

“Technically, yes,” Hermann says at length. “But what were your intentions for dressing so nicely?”

Newt bites his lip and, for once, chooses his words carefully. “Okay, valid point. I like the attention. It was fun, it was an experiment. I’ve always been confident in my looks and myself, but I’ve never felt like I was anything special, always someone around taller or more fit, you know?”

“So you wanted to be the most attractive father at the park?”

“Something like that, yeah. I wanted to see if other people could see me the way that you do.”

“And what was the conclusion?” Hermann asks, shifting his gaze down. He’s not sure if he’s angrier than before or feeling something more tender twisting inside.

“Even if they could, it wouldn’t matter because I’d never want that. God, I’m an idiot.” Newt runs a hand through his hair, pausing to tug it.

“You’re not an idiot, or at least that’s not the issue.” Hermann says, and something clicks. “You’re bored. You want something to experiment with. On.”

“Bored isn’t the right word. I just- it’s stagnant sometimes. Being home all day. And I love spending all this time with Frankie, I do. She’s the light of my life, but I love working. Teaching, being in a lab. And I know we’re both going back in the fall and it’ll be fine, but I just want to learn something new.”

“I can allow a small lab in the kitchen,” Hermann states. “Only samples and chemicals that are very controlled and safe for a child. And for being near food items. On the condition that you keep it clean and stop dressing for the benefit of random strangers.”

Newt’s face lights up at that, suddenly excited at the prospect of having something to poke around in. His face does fall, though, when Hermann lists the conditions. “I had one more experiment relating to the clothes, but I don’t think you’d mind.”

“Newton.”

“Alright, alright.” He moves to Hermann and dramatically kisses his cheek. “We’ll see how you feel about it after i rock your world tonight.”

Hermann’s moments away from making a comment when he hears the telltale sound of Frankie’s feet rushing across the living room floor towards their bedroom. Her nap did not last nearly long enough.

 

The amount of self control it takes to not try to put Frankie to bed immediately after dinner is immense. Applaudable, even, given the circumstances. But Hermann persists and lets the evening tick by in the way it usually does. Newt occupies himself by shopping for lab supplies online, which means that Hermann’s suggestion is being taken seriously. Hopefully he doesn’t regret it.

Despite the amount of times that Hermann’s looked at his watch, it’s Newt who rather abruptly casts aside his device at exactly Frankie’s bedtime.

“Time for bed, little bud,” he announces and Frankie looks up from her seat on the floor with a petulant pout. Newt remains impassive as he stands, scooping her up in his arms. Hermann can tell by the look on his face that Newt can’t lift her as easily as he once could. It’s all part of growing up.

Hermann stands and putters in the living room and kitchen for a few moments, making sure everything’s in order before everyone retires for the night. When he stops to check in on Frankie, she’s already half asleep, cosy in her pajamas as she sits perched on Newt’s knee. He’s reading her a story and rather dramatically doing all of the voices, even though most of the voices he does sound precisely the same.

Even though Frankie’s fast asleep before the book ends, Newt finishes it. Hermann takes it from him and reshelves it in the proper place so that he can tuck Frankie in with minimal concern for waking her.

“She’s out like a light,” Newt whispers. “Should be offended that she didn’t like my story so much.”

Shaking his head, Hermann reaches for his hand and leads him to their room. It’s Newt that locks the door behind them, a preventative measure. Just for the time being. Hermann starts to undress but it’s not with any design, just the practiced way he prepares for bed every night. He pretends not to notice Newt staring from near the doorway. If Newt still intends to “rock his world” then it’s on him to initiate. He’s been denied enough in the past week.

“Hermann?” Newt asks, tentative.

“Yes, darling?” Hermann answers, certain. He has to bite back a grin.

“Let me.”

Newt steps forward, taking over where Hermann was unbuttoning his shirt. His hands are almost unsteady, thrumming with a distinctive nervous energy. Excitement, eagerness. When he arrives at the very bottom, he allows his hands to slide up Hermann’s chest, lifting the shirt only once he’s reached the top. Hermann is able to shrug out of it easily enough. Wasting no time, Newt works on Hermann’s belt next, undoing it after fumbling a few times.

“Why are you so nervous?” Hermann asks, gently lifting one of Newt’s hands away so he can finish removing his trousers himself. “You’ve done this many times before.”

“And hopefully will many times again,” Newt’s tone is uneasy, without the level of confidence Hermann is used to him having in the bedroom.

“I’m not testing you, Newton. This isn’t a case of me needing you to actually ‘rock my world’ as you said. I’d be very happy with the world’s most mediocre sex right now. Well, maybe not very happy, but you get my point. It’s about you. And me.”

Hermann drops his trousers to the floor and actually, for once, leaves them where they are. He doesn’t bother removing his socks before moving to the bed. His feet get cold in the night and Newt knows this. If he minds or finds it vastly unappealing, Newt’s certainly never voiced anything. And Newt does love to be vocal.

Newt takes the hint easily enough and slips off his infuriating hoodie, leaving his hair messier than usual and his glasses sitting at a weird angle that he doesn’t fix. His attempts at making a bit of a show of sliding off his tight jeans are almost immediately thwarted by the fact that it’s near impossible to slide out of them without also removing his underwear, meaning there’s very little to tease after the fact. Hermann, God help him, finds this awkwardness almost more arousing than a successful strip tease. 

“Now we’re uneven,” Newt says, resting a knee on the bed for a moment before he climbs on. “Because you’ve still got that absurd old man underwear on.”

Rolling his eyes, Hermann lifts his hips just enough to slip off the offensive piece of clothing. Newt eagerly takes over in removing them once they’re out of Hermann’s reach, tossing them aside with his usual lack of care for hampers or clean floors.

“Insulting my clothing is not going to do you any favors.” Hermann watches closely as Newt inserts himself between his legs, rubbing at Hermann’s upper thighs.

“Mm, honey, how can I make that terrible insult up to you?” Newt leans over, kissing a line down his navel towards his groin.

“Come up here and kiss me,” Hermann demands. 

Eagerly, Newt climbs on top of him, mindful of his bad hip but little else. They both like a bit of rough handling now and then. During their first few months together, it was not uncommon to discover a bruise or a love bite the next morning. Now they’re often much gentler, under the covers, with the lights out. That’s good, too, though Hermann has always been unsure if Newt enjoyed such a bland sex life. As if reading his mind, Newt reaches over towards the lamp to switch it off, but Hermann’s hand flies out to grab his wrist.

“We’re not old marrieds yet,” Hermann states, a grin tugging at his lips.

“We are neither of those things, so point taken. Now, what was this about kissing?”

Despite the demand, Newt ends up kissing him anywhere but his mouth; first his chest, then along his shoulders and neck, each place earning a higher and more desperate sound. It’s not loud by any means, but it’s needy, eager, not a side of Hermann he shows easily, and something even Newt has to earn in the bedroom. Tonight he’s just giving Newt that experience a bit more easily than usual.

Eventually Newt lands a chaste kiss to his lips, but only as a stop along a journey. The kisses continue along his jaw and then, abruptly, with a bite to the earlobe. The sound that escapes Hermann then is wholly unexpected and he clamps a hand down on his mouth to quiet himself. He’s forgotten that Newt’s worried about this, making too much noise.

“Baby,” Newt whines, pressing his face against Hermann’s neck. “Don’t hide that from me.”

Hermann hesitates and then pulls his hand away. 

“We’re gonna take a weekend away soon, alright?” Newt continues, sitting up. “Or just a Saturday night. Just get a damn hotel room so I can do filthy, filthy things to you and then you can do even filthier things to me.”

“I’d like that.” He rests his hands on Newt’s hips. “Just a night away. Just the two of us.”

There’s a weird sense of guilt that Hermann has to fight to diminish. He’s allowed to have this, they both are. They should be having this. And often. He understands where Newt’s hesitance comes from.

“Gotta make sure the hotel has a headboard I can tie you to, though.” Newt rocks his hips.

“Newton!” he gasps, half scandalized, half very pleased.

“Can you imagine it?” Newt asks, reaching between them for Hermann’s cock, which he starts to stroke slowly. “I get to have my wicked way with you however I like.”

Suddenly the room feels warmer and Hermann regrets keeping his socks on. It’s too late for that. He won’t let Newt get him flustered that easily, though, and he moves his grip to Newt’s arm, abruptly shifting their positions so he’s on top. Newt’s hand has left him in the move, and Hermann takes over from there’ stroking them both hard and fast.

“Darling, if you think it would be anything but precisely what I wanted you to do,” Hermann’s words roll elegantly off his tongue, despite the pleasure overtaking his body, “I think you misunderstand who’s in charge here.”

Newt smirks like he’s got a forbidden secret and holds onto Hermann’s bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“When do you have time to- ah- to work out, Herms? I forgot you can just toss me around all you want. It’s hot.”

That makes Hermann flush deeply and he knows from the way Newt continues to grin that this is a victory over him. Hermann leans down, placing a kiss on Newt’s adam’s apple before he scrapes his teeth on the gentle skin there. Newt cries out and that sound definitely carries out of the room, but he certainly doesn’t notice. They will have to be more careful in the future, that’s for certain.

“Can you grab the lubricant for me, darling?” Hermann asks softly.

Newt’s hand flies to the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer. To give him reprieve, Hermann does stop moving his hand then. He holds out his hand to Newt who squirts some (probably too much) onto it. When it’s slick, he resumes stroking both of them, his long fingers wrapped around their shafts.

“I was gonna do all the work,” Newt huffs out, but he doesn’t sound disappointed.

“I know you were, but I don’t hear you complaining.”

In response, Newt shakes his head and writhes against him. “Getting close.”

Part of Hermann wants to make this last all night, to tease Newt and keep him on edge until morning comes. A much bigger part knows this would be frankly exhausting and his hip is starting to hurt. She he strokes them as hard as he can, until Newt arches his back as he comes between then.

When he’s sure Newt’s done, he releases his cock, focusing only on his own. In only a few strokes, he releases himself across Newt’s stomach before nearly collapsing on top of him. When they’ve both caught their breath and recovered, Hermann feels Newt lay a hand on his back, tracing lines down the skin.

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I haven’t been what you needed.”

“Shush, Newton.” Hermann ungracefully rolls off of him. “You’re always more than enough.”

This feels like the truest thing in his life.

 

It takes an entire morning of convincing to get Hermann to agree with the plan. It’s amazing, though, how much more easily he’s persuaded when frequent intercourse is occurring in his life. Or at least the promise of it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have second thoughts.

“I look like a tart,” he states, staring at the man in the mirror. He’s let Newt dress him today and while he’s wearing his own clothing, he’d never choose them for himself. The first three buttons on his shirt are completely undone and he most definitely never does more than two, even when he’s attempting to look attractive. The jeans Newt has chosen are very snug and shoved in the back of the closet for a very good reason.

“You look hot,” Newt corrects, wrapping an arm around him from behind. “The ladies are going to love you.”

“I really don’t see the purpose of this.”

“Well, I thought it would be fair. You get to see what it’s like to have a bunch of people find you very attractive, I might get a little bit jealous.”

“This may have escaped your attention, Newton,” he turns to glance at Newt over his shoulder, “but _ I  _ don’t like women in that capacity and due to the continued outdated gender-”

“That’s not what matters, it’s that many of the women might like you.” Newt catches Hermann’s hand before he can reach up to button up the third button on the shirt.

Hermann snorts. “Women do not like me, they never have. Or many men for that matter.”

“Are you kidding me, Herms?” Newt asks. “You’re hot and you look like you know how to balance a checkbook. Women, and men, love that.”

“Is that what attracted you to me?”

Newt steps away, eyeing Hermann up and down once again for good measure. “It was a contributing factor, you know I’m not good with money.”

It takes every ounce of self-control to keep from laughing. Hermann refuses to validate this choice so easily. He turns to face Newt properly. “And what is it I’m getting in exchange for preening?”

“Well, when Frankie lays down for her nap I’m gonna blow-”

“Daddy!” Frankie shouts, already halfway into the master bathroom. “You ready?”

The color that rises in Newt’s cheeks only lasts for a moment before he ruffles Frankie’s hair fondly.

“Doesn’t Dad look very handsome today?” Newt asks.

Frankie immediately gives a thumbs up before rushing back out of the room. She will come back again if they don’t follow, so they both do. Newt does manage to give Hermann a final warning glance as his hands fly to his third button. Despite the cold air, he leaves with all three undone. The women at the park do love it, but not half as much as a rather jealous Newt does once they’re back at the apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ [pendragoff](http://pendragoff.tumblr.com) or at twitter @ [newtguzzler](http://twitter.com/newtguzzler)
> 
> Title, as with the others in this series, from "Fears of a Father" by Ed Harcourt. There is still at least 1 planned fic in this series, possibly more.


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